


How Spencer Reid Took an Elbow to the Face

by thathyperloudfangirlchick



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: F/M, Zombies, meet ugly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-21
Updated: 2015-09-21
Packaged: 2018-04-22 19:27:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4847483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thathyperloudfangirlchick/pseuds/thathyperloudfangirlchick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Inspired by this prompt: “Ok but like. Imagine your otp. Person A is using the zombie running app and has to stop to take a breath and person B looks concerned for the cute, terrified-looking stranger and puts their hand on A’s shoulder from behind to ask if A is ok but A is so startled they punch B in the face bc they thought B was a zombie”</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Spencer Reid Took an Elbow to the Face

          “Hnnnnng… Braaaaains… Brains…. BRAAAAAAAAAAAAINS…,” you release a gaspy yelp as the moans of zombies and the sounds of their shuffling feet permeate their ears, the sounds filling you with frightened adrenaline as your legs beg for a reprieve from their stressed, overworked hell. Your thumping-out-of-control heart implores you for the same thing, but the calls of flesh-hungry zombies behind you inspire you to make that last sprint to safety. Two more seconds of fiery pain ravaging your muscles, then you can rest.

          Finally, you cross the white mile line on the cement, and you double over, hands on your knees, gulping in breath like God was pouring the Fountain of Youth into your mouth himself.

          “Congratulations on surviving… this time. You ran those two miles in fourteen minutes and made it to safety just before the zombies could get you. You will get to live another day… until the next time you must go out for food. Then, you will run the two miles in thirteen minutes and twenty seconds, or get eaten. Until next time, Thank you for using Zombie Run.” You rip your pink earphones out your ears, regretting so thoroughly not bringing more than one bottle of water.

          Why did you think this was a good idea? Sure, you needed to get in shape, but motivating yourself with the thought of zombies chasing you was a suggestion from an asshole muse. You cursed the app and your muscles and this stupid park with its stupid wooded track as you straighten up, pressing your hands to your sore lower back. The screams of your companions being eaten and the sounds of zombies chewing were running through your mind, the wild, thunderous thumping of your heart the only thing blocking it from your ears. You’re stretching your back arched and your arms over your head, taking deep breaths in an attempt to get the sound out of your ears when you feel a pressure, something grasping your upper arm.

          “AHHHHHH, SHIT!” you scream, whirling around with your elbow out, intent on putting up a damn good fight against any zombies who would try to eat your simple but your sure-to-be delicious brain. When you feel your elbow make contact with a solid thwack sound, you put both your fists up and look for an attacker. Instead, you see nothing until you look down and see a handsome man splayed on the ground, hand on his face, and groaning in pain. It takes you only a split second to comprehend exactly how stupid of a human being you are before you are kneeling by his side, spewing apologies faster than they can get out your mouth.

          “Ohmygod I’m so so so sorry are you okay are you okay are you bleeding are you BLEEDING do you need a band aid I have band aids in my sock wait a band aid won’t help with a bloody nose I’m stupid please don’t mind me oh god you have to mind me I just elbowed you in the face please tell me you’re okay,” you implore, your worried, apologetic face hovering over his.

          “No, no, no I’m okay, I apologize for startling you, it’s my fault,” he apologizes, removing his hand from his unbloodied face, and you begin to deny deny deny until you get a look at him. Your already wide open mouth drops as you take in his perfect, symmetric beauty of the face before you, his tinted-green eyes shocking you into a dazed silence. “I’m okay, really. You seemed so frightened and panicked that I just wanted to make sure you were alright.” At his sweet, unprecedented concern, you straighten up, mentally hoping you didn’t drool on that angel face of his, and gently grasp his arm, coaxing him to a stand while you blush and mutter more apologies.

          “I’m really sorry… again. I was frightened because… oh, this is going to sound so juvenile, but I listen to this zombie simulation to motivate me to run, and it got me really freaked out, y’know, being chased… I must have made me more paranoid than I expected, and ohmygod I am so sorryyyyy,” you say, facing downward and covering your face with your hands. Of course this would happen to you, and in front of a guy that is basically 3D-printed out of your wildest dreams, except in those dreams, you would meet the curly-haired, green eyed stunner is your bakery while you were smiling and smelling sweetly of chocolate and bread. Instead, you reek of sweat and elbowed him in the face. If that didn’t just sum up your life, you didn’t know what else to say. You look up and remove your hands, ready to face the embarrassing, mortifying music, and find him looking at you with a fascinated, delighted look.

          “You use a zombie simulation to work out? Can I see it?” he asks, his eyes simply lighting up. You blink in confusion, taking your phone out your arm-band and handing it to him.

          “It’s called Zombies Run… it tells the story of you being chased by zombies, and your goal is to reach the safety point or the end of your track. It’s pretty cool cause it monitors your speed, so when you slow down, it ups the panic by telling you the zombies are coming closer,” you explain, pointing out the different functions when the man’s fingers fumble with your smartphone. He hands it back to you, an astonishing smile on his face.

          “Sorry, I don’t use my phone a lot, but I try to run sometimes too, so that would be pretty useful; hey, did you know there is an actual strain of fungus that basically turns queen ants into zombies, forcing them to kill their young and wreck their nest before destroying the host body, and that there’s reasonable belief from scientists that the fungus could evolve into a more potent strain that affects larger organisms, such as eventually humans??” he asks, the factoid spitfiring out of his mouth before he could stop it.

          “I did, in fact, know that, and, trust me, it is one of the many reasons I am so terrified of the undead,” you respond with a bland look, wondering why he would tell you such a frightening tidbit of information when your fright got him an elbow in the face.

          “Actually, on the contrary, when one analyzes the science on Romero zombies, it’s more likely that there’s nothing to be afraid of, but that would be a lot more information than I could convey at the moment. If you don’t, I’d really like to share that knowledge with you over time, over coffee, maybe?” he asks, quickly and matter-of-factly. You blink at him, as if you’re positive the words you just heard will disappear when you open your eyes and you keep trying again just to make sure.

          “Are… are you asking me out…?” He nods briskly, only the tightening of his hands around the brown leather strap of his bag betraying his nervousness. “But… I elbowed you… in the face… when you tried to see if I was okay…” At this, he gives you a self-conscious smile and ducks his head, one of his oh-so-pretty hands running through his hair in nerves.

          “Actually… I think you’re really cute, and when you seemed so panicked, I thought it would be a really good chance to talk to you,” he says sheepishly. Your hand mirrors his as you push your hair behind your ear and finally blush as you realize something. Belatedly, you hold out your hand.

          “My name’s Y/N Y/L/N. And what’s yours, handsome stranger?” He laughs at that and shakes your hand, his fingertips lingering a second longer than necessary.

          “I’m Spencer Reid, Miss Y/N. Would you like to talk a walk around the park?” Still glowing red, you nod, and the two of you start to walk, keeping an easy stride with each other.

          “So, Mr. Reid, what do you do?”

          “I’m a behavior analyst for the FBI.”

          “Goddammit, the person I elbowed in the face is an AGENT FOR THE FBI?!?”

          “In your defense, you thought I was a mindless, flesh-eating monster.”

          “Surprisingly, that doesn’t make me feel better.”


End file.
